


Ceremonials

by Raptor_Red



Category: The Locked Tomb Trilogy | Gideon the Ninth Series - Tamsyn Muir
Genre: F/F, Face-Sitting, Harrow sets out to prove that you can't spell necromantic without romantic, I'm just a Homestuck expat who still likes it a lot, I'm not sure that needs to be tagged considering the fandom but better safe than sorry I guess!, Telepathic Sex, also technically necrophilia if you look at it too hard but only briefly at the beginning, canon-typical descriptions of violence and some blood, the second person POV in here isn't really That Deep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:54:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27477619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raptor_Red/pseuds/Raptor_Red
Summary: In which Harrowhark pulls Death out of Gideon's body by force, scrapes her sticky soul from her own brain, puts it back into its proper flesh vessel and then decides to hot-wire the whole mess until it sizzles. Too bad the only thing she forgot to bring were necromantic oven mitts.
Relationships: Gideon Nav/Harrowhark Nonagesimus
Comments: 8
Kudos: 107





	Ceremonials

**Author's Note:**

> Listen, I know there's like ten fics out there already with the same flavor but done better. Please be gentle!
> 
> This also extends to the fact that I know Necromancy doesn't work like that.

Your first impulse upon seeing her again was dismay, you wanted to find whoever was responsible for putting her in here, drag them by the lapels to the next airlock and smile grimly as you introduced them to the unforbidding nothing of space. 

You didn’t do that.

Instead, you straightened your shoulders for no one but yourself and crossed the antiseptic expanse that was the ship’s morgue. The door obediently whooshed shut behind you and you jammed it with a sprinkling of bone ash. The room had the hostile aura only stainless steel surfaces in combination with harsh neon lighting could create. You didn’t care. You only had eyes for what laid on one of the examination tables -the only occupied one- covered to the neck with a flimsy piece of teal cloth. 

It almost surprised you, the way her hair was still the same bright hue. Life could leave her but the color on her head had stayed loyal. You pulled the piece of cloth away and the only thing betraying your seething rage was the purse of your lips. How dare they leave her here naked? How dare they put her here, among the common dead. 

How dare they make someone so bright and tremendous look so small.

She deserved a mausoleum. A vast, echoing temple made of shining onyx and obsidian. 

Then again. No. You feared that that would only make her look smaller still. 

You let out a quiet breath as you lightly touched her cold arm, letting your hand linger there and your gaze roam. They had taken good care of her at least. Cleaned her of the grime of battle and you could spot no further damage than what had happened to her when she’d...when she’d done it. They’d even reset her bones and sewed her wounds up, though no real healing had occurred, of course.

Embarrassment regarding her nudity was beyond you. It wasn’t that you held no appreciation for her form laid out before you -much the opposite, actually- it was just so that being abashed in front of the empty vessel of someone who had seen you stripped to your essence and whose essence you had glimpsed as well was near impossible. Still, you couldn’t say why exactly but it was as if the footing you were on wasn’t even yet for what you are about to attempt. You wouldn’t deny your instinct on this matter. 

And so you let your robes fall. You’d come here with an unpainted face already, following the same instinct that led you now. Whatever would happen next, you felt that it would only happen without your customary walls and moat in the way.

A shiver ran through you. Logically, morgues were not places known for cozy temperatures. Still you were used to cold showers when the sonic on Drearburgh had malfunctioned once again. This was but a minor inconvenience. 

Next, with all your clothing discarded, you climbed onto the examination table -with less grace than you would have preferred- until you were straddling her hips. You felt the coarse hair she had down here briefly brush against you as you settled. (Why the fact that it was the same orange as the hair on her head charmed you as much as it did, you could not say.) 

Warmth spread to your cheeks. Maybe embarrassment was not wholly beyond you. 

You took the time to regard her once more before you continued. The perfect, no, divine architecture of her body. You could lose yourself in all its minute details for an eternity, from the shape of her brows to the gentle arch of her lips, the freckles strewn about her impossibly gold-brown skin. Each of her corded muscles paid testimony to the countless times you had pitted her against one of your constructs. You’d made her stumble, made her fall as well many times. But no matter what, she’d always stood back up, dusted off her pants and given you that smug expression. That’s all you got for me? 

Unbeknownst to her, and even to yourself for the longest time, you had got a whole lot more for her. It was just something of an entirely different quality.

Her body was the same as it had always been but the sheer inertia of it right now almost hurt you physically. 

“Oh Griddle.”, you sigh more than you say it. She would stand back up this time too, you would not stop before she did. 

And there it was, that ghosting wisp of not-alone that sometimes coursed through your lobes and down your spinal cord. It liked to settle contendly in the pit of your stomach when you’d managed to eat something or it would make the hair at the nape of your neck stand up whenever you pointedly walked past the ship’s gym.

Or there had been that one time. Just once, when your hormones had had their monthly spike and they had conspired with your loneliness and touch starved body in the dark of your bedroom. It….she hadn’t drawn away then. She’d partaken with unrestricted joy and you had felt her thrum in tune with yourself for a blissful half hour.

You’d been scared afterwards, not because of the experience but because for a few moments you’d sensed her mingling with your own soul. You’d been so sure that you had the mindless, greedy hunger under control, that you had muzzled it successfully. You cherished the feeling of her roaming through you, you didn’t want to go back to locking her in a tiny cage, away from yourself. So you hadn’t repeated it since then, the thought of accidentally consuming her far outweighed your desire. 

None of that mattered right now, though. Because right now you were about to put Griddle back where she belonged.

With a deep breath you leaned forward and gently, as if she could feel it, put one hand on her forehead and the other on her sternum. Again, you had no written instructions for this, you just did it because it felt like the only right thing to do. 

And then you began to suck the thanergy from Gideon’s body, dispersing it into the endless black between the stars, just beyond the hull of the ship. Making it someone or something else’s problem. At first it was easy, but the more you took, the higher the energy imbalance was growing. Much like air wanted nothing more than to fill a vacuum -through the tiniest crack if necessary- the thanergy sitting potently within Gideon’s body wanted to regain equilibrium. You wouldn’t allow it. This vacuum needed to be flawless and absolute, the only thing you’d let pass later and refill it would be the pure thalergy of Gideon’s soul. 

And so you worked tirelessly. You had no feeling for the passing of time anymore, your way of measurement became first the pebble weight of thanergy you took away, then rocks, then boulders and finally mountains and continents. A pained gasp escaped you when finally, there was nothing left for you to drag away.

Your thighs were shaking and you were leaning forward so heavily you could almost count Gideon’s eyelashes. Dark red blood was dripping from your ears, nose and tear ducts onto her chest. Proper oxygenation sounded like a distant dream. You allowed yourself three deep gulps of air before you’d continue. 

This had been the easy part. 

Maintaining the vacuum was as straining as creating it had been, still you endured. Your molars couldn’t keep up with the force by which you were clenching your jaws shut. You felt them break and mend themselves again and again as next you oh so carefully scooped up all that was Gideon from deep inside you. At first that came easy too but as you proceeded it was as if some protective covering gradually slipped away, like a sheath from a blade sharp enough to split atoms or a lampshade from an entire star. It bit and burned molten and white-hot and it weighed as heavily as only a black hole or a whole life could. 

You felt it irradiating your insides on its way up. 

Briefly, you wondered how the universe had made it possible for every person to carry something this immense within themselves and whether your own soul looked even remotely like Gideon’s or completely different.

Panicked, you realized it didn’t let go on its own as you tipped it forward gently, you’d assumed the vacuum would aid it in settling back into its rightful place. 

Oh shit, you thought for lack of anything more witty. 

You almost dropped it then, it was still burning your mind to a crisp with its mere presence after all. You were also feeling like something in your brain would snap soon with how difficult it was to visualize all that was happening as if it were spatial and not in its entire metaphysical and multi-dimensional truth.

You didn’t, wouldn’t ever drop it, though. Instead, you got the privilege of witnessing a whole new level of agony as you started to sever strand after strand of her from yourself. It was as if someone were pulling all your veins and arteries out of your body through a pin prick size hole in your hand. You prayed to a dead god that she couldn’t feel anything right now. 

The very last strand snapped on its own and in an unseeable flash you sensed one last lick of the power she had granted you refueling you and then the shining molten gold sliding of Gideon back into Gideon. 

And then you felt incredibly empty. 

Unable to hold yourself up any longer, you face-planted into her chest and stayed there, smelling the sharp tinge of blood and ozone. 

For a long time, nothing happened. You contemplated vomiting but quickly disregarded the idea. Twice.

Until finally, with your ear right against it, you couldn’t miss the very first beat of her heart. 

You couldn’t help but smile and make the tiniest, exhausted “mmm.” sound that held at least ten different emotions and meanings. Let no one say you weren’t efficient in everything you did. 

Her first breath followed, as did a few shallow coughs to shake out her lungs. Her body heat returned gradually and you were there to witness every degree of it. 

You considered that you should probably get up, give her some space but then her arms wrapped around your bare back and despite having just given up the gift of immortality, you’d never felt more indestructible.

With your strength slowly returning -thanks to Gideon’s last rejuvenating parting gift- you lifted your head just in time for to see her blow a stray strand of hair from her forehead.

And then she looked at you and oh.

Oh no. 

Something must have gone terribly wrong.

You sat up more properly and scooted up to look at her eyes up close in terror. Black flecks marred the usually pristine amber of her irises.

“Your eyes.”, you hissed, horrified. It came out hoarse, had you screamed? You didn’t remember screaming.

“Yours too.”, she croaked in answer, seemingly unnerved. You didn’t need to ask to know what color the flecks in your own irises were. Had your cuts not been clean enough? Had you created a chimera? Had you, Harrowhark Nonagesimus, fucked up big time? 

You clutched at her shoulders, searched her face, you needed to know how bad the damage was, “Say something!”

“Uh, hello to you too, my doomsday dame.”

Then she proceeded to glance downwards, at her naked, blood splattered body, then a little higher at your naked, blood splattered body looming over her and then she laid her head back down to inspect the ceiling. 

“I’m not going to ask about that but you know, a “You died!” banner would have been nice. Or balloons. Or a cake. I think people that died deserve a cake afterwards.”

“Griddle.”

“Hm?”

“I’ve never been more elated to hear you spewing complete nonsense.”

Your craftsmanship had not been perfect and it gnawed at you, still she sounded like Gideon, you just hoped you hadn’t frayed anything not so immediately obvious in her personality.

The next minute passed in uncertainty. You saw two paths forking before you. One led you to getting up, clearing your throat, putting your robes back on, acquiring some more clothes to give to Gideon and quenching your every emotion that dared to rear its head. The Harrow without amber in her eyes would have likely taken this path. 

But you were not that Harrow, and so you chose the other path.

You leaned down and found her lips waiting for yours.

You had a level of expertise in a vast multitude of topics. Kissing was not one of them. 

It did not seem to matter though, as what you lacked in skill you made up for in enthusiasm and if the way Gideon tangled her fingers in the hair at the back of your head to lock you firmly in place was anything to go by, it worked. 

She pulled lightly on your hair to change the angle and granted you entrance.

If her soft lips had been ambrosia, then the feeling of her tongue sliding against yours was like water in a thousand year drought. Her mouth tasted somewhat stale from disuse but lord you did not care. Her soul had left you only to be replaced with something equally vast you dared not name yet. It roiled through you like thunderclap and commanded you to break from her lips then. She made a displeased sound at that, which you quickly soothed away by laying kisses on her cheeks, her forehead, the strong line of her jaw. You infused each one with praise and gratitude but you wanted her to hear it too.

“Thank you.”, you whispered against her skin between kisses.

“Thank you. You’ve given so much and done so well, I’ll be forever in your debt. Thank you.”

Her hand found the side of your face and you leaned into the touch, then turned your head a bit more to kiss her palm as well.

“Harrow.” -you met her gaze- “Harrow, you don’t owe me anything. I did it for you. I’d do it again.”

“I won’t let you do anything like that ever again. Don’t try, don’t even think about trying.”

With her thumb, she brushed some dried blood flakes from the corner of your mouth. 

“That’s nasty.”, she said quietly as they crumbled away, sounding as if it weren’t nasty at all.

“We could go to my quarters and wash.”

“Did it hurt?”, she said instead. Ignoring your suggestion.

“I thought you said you weren’t going to ask about it.”

“Well I changed my mind. I died. I’m allowed to.”

You shook your head, bemused. You had a feeling you would be hearing that excuse a lot in the future.

“No. It didn’t hurt.”, you lied and knew in that instant that she’d seen through it. Your expression hadn’t betrayed you, you were good at masking your emotions to the world even without any face paint. No, she’d read it right off the front of your mind. 

Maybe that should have freaked you the fuck out. But Gideon had been intimate with your neurons and their schemes until approximately an hour ago, it was nothing new to you and besides that you felt a warm blanket of sympathy spreading over you that hadn’t come from your own meager oxytocin reserves.

So that was where you had messed up. 

With your curiosity piqued you wanted to try it too, see if the connection ran both ways, and so you let memories and fantasies pool deep in your stomach. 

The memory of the siphoning trial, where you had been impressed by just how much Gideon could give. And had been willing to do so.

The memory of your confession in a pool of saltwater and how her embrace had set you on fire. 

Then you drifted into different terrain, things that hadn’t happened. Yet. 

Her hands cupping yours. Her breath tickling your neck as she slept pressed up against you from behind. The satisfaction you felt when you learned a new fact applied to Gideon and the ten thousand things there were yet for you to learn about her. 

Absently you felt Gideon shift underneath you, a brief ripple of muscle, which was likely the cause for your mind slipping. 

You imagined her back, covered in a light sheen of sweat as it worked to hold her up above you lying underneath. You imagined her cry out while you mapped the places where she’d like to be bitten and the ones she’d rather have kissed.

You imagined...you imagined yourself, spread out on dark sheets, your hair utterly dishevelled and your chest heaving from exertion. 

That one hadn’t come from you and when you opened your eyes you barely had time to process Gideon’s half parted lips and smoldering look before she sat up abruptly. This left you to sit in her lap and then you were kissing again. This time it was laced with something more primal.

Nipping at your lips and letting her tongue sweep over yours could not satisfy her wholly however, and you weren’t offended by that because she moved on to your neck, where she proceeded to suck and lave the skin to her heart’s content. The half hum, half growl Gideon emitted in response to you clenching your fists in her hair ran as far down in you as it could possibly go. 

“Can I touch you?”, she asked, which you found somewhat ridiculous since you knew she knew the answer already. 

“Yes.”, you answered still. Followed by an “Oh yes.” and a shudder because she had abandoned your neck and gone straight for the stiff peak of one of your breasts. She held you with one palm between your shoulder blades and used the other to work in tandem with her mouth, palming and nipping you roughly.

The both of you ended up in a feedback loop then as she continued. You’d receive the pure attraction she felt toward your body, intensified by how foreign that notion was to you. In turn you transmitted your rush of endorphins her acting upon that attraction caused in you. To which she added her own again and sent it back and so on. Overwhelmed, Gideon actually stilled after a while, the warm-gold stream of whatever it was you two were swapping back and forth did not. It intensified even. A shaking breath from Gideon, a cry from you and then you both tensed and quaked in unison, climaxing in a way that did nothing for the ache between your legs but felt just as deeply satisfying.

Even the recovery was different, more like waking up from a deep and restful sleep rather than coming down from an orgasmic high. 

Gideon pulled her face away from where she’d pressed it against your sternum.

“What the fuck was that.”

“I don’t think a word exists for that yet, Griddle.”, you offer her lamely.

“And I don’t know what switch you flipped in my think-sponge when you pulled me out but I’m not letting you turn it off ever again, that was amazing!”

Her enthusiasm reached you, but dulled now. 

“I can agree to that. We will need to conduct tests however. I’m assuming there is a refractory period and I would like to know what distance our...connection can cover.”

“So like, you want to know how far away the broom closet you’ll lock me into needs to be so that I can’t make you black out in some bone business meeting?”

“....I meant as a precaution in case pain or negative emotions occur. But that as well now that you’ve brought it up.”

That made her laugh and made you want to wipe that smug, lopsided grin from her face with a kiss.

“You insult me, my shadow empress. I’m still your cavalier, if you stub your toe my honor commands me to take it with only a little crying.” She accentuated the “little” by holding her thumb and forefinger a short distance apart.

And that really summed it up, didn’t it? In that prattling Gideon kind of way but it was the truth. She had died for you and you had glued your shattered self back together for her. What else could the universe throw at you that the both of you together couldn’t take?

Gideon cleared her throat. “So I don’t know about you but I’m still horny as hell…”

“And what would you like to do about it?”

Her answer came immediately. “I want to touch you so badly.”

And so you leaned backwards, knowing that Gideon was going to stop your fall with her palm still on your back. She followed you down and gasped when you shamelessly spread your legs for her, took one of her hands and pressed it down on your breast. Lastly, you locked eyes with hers and thought then please, oh please touch me.

You felt filthy. It was exhilarating. And you were a little high on life after all right now. Gideon’s life, true. But why bother with semantics.

“Oh shit Harrow. Oh fuck Harrow.”

Gideon wasted no more time, she worked you greedily. Cupped and massaged your not-quite handfuls, playfully supported by her tongue to circling one areola after the other. No feedback loop happened this time. The pleasure you felt now was mostly your own. Mostly.

Gideon broke away to quickly change her position and yours as well, like you didn’t weigh anything at all to her. She ended up pressed half to your side and half to your back, creating as much skin contact as possible and she had propped up one of your legs.

Next, she drew stroke after agonizing stroke from under your chin, over your throat, between -and sometimes over- your breasts, and finally down the middle of your stomach only to stop there and start over before she ever reached your aching mound. When she went down a different path, along your flank, with her blunt fingernails raking your skin, you gifted her a moan. 

At that she gripped your hip bones and in one wave of motion ground herself against your back. You turned your head for a kiss and Gideon obliged but soon you grew too distracted when her hands found new territory, namely the insides of your thighs. She moved higher and let out a surprised exhale right into your ear when she discovered how wet you were for her already. 

You bit down on another moan when she went on to spread that slickness all over your folds. She noticed and said, “No, let me hear you.”

You didn’t deny her request.

Her reward for you came promptly, she stopped teasing your entrance and finally, finally you felt the glide of a finger and knew she was inside you. She pulled back out and on her next thrust she added a second one, which had you gasping and arching your back and hips to meet her hand. 

Her pace was measured and steady. You didn’t know how she maintained this much control, considering that you felt yourself boiling over into her consciousness again. When she curled her fingers and offered you the pad of her thumb on your clit you knew it would be over soon. Your breathing came ragged as you tried to hold on a little longer, savoring each second of your release building up higher and higher. Gideon bit down where your neck met your shoulder and that was what did it for you. On her next thrust you came undone, with your toes curling and a helpless “oh ooh, Gideon!” tumbling from your lips you rode it out, twitching and pulsing.

She waited so patiently for you to come down from your high but when you turned around and saw her blown pupils, the flush on her skin and the desperation in her eyes you knew you needed to act fast. You had done this to her. The thought hit you hard. 

“Sit on my face.” 

“Sit...on your..”, you watched as she processed it.

It didn’t take long and by the time you had laid back down she was moving into position. With your hands on her firm glutes you guided her onto your lips, taking in her exquisite, musky scent all around you. You opened your mouth and gave her one long, languid lick. Gideon’s reaction came promptly, her thighs quaked and she vocalized much more freely than you had done. 

Judging by the amount of arousal you were lapping up, she must’ve been close already and you didn’t torture her further with teasing. You moved your tongue from her entrance, up to the hard nub of her clit, circled around it and back down. Again and again, falling into a rhythm with her bucking and panting. For months she hadn’t had a sense of touch at all, followed by hijacking yours on rare occasions, it was no wonder she was coming apart so explosively now. You moved one hand to soothingly rub her taut stomach. You would have kept worshipping her cunt for an eon if need be, but a few more minutes turned out to be enough. Gideon’s orgasm crested, she was feeling so much, you’d barely even reached for your own clit before she was pulling you along with her. Both of your bodies locked up in joyous relief together. 

You collectively spent the next minute remembering how to breathe.

Atfer, you scooted a little to the side of the table so she could lay down next to you and bask in the afterglow as well. Mentally, you were mapping the least busy path back to your quarters, while running your fingers through Gideon’s mussed up hair. Running into any BoE members while covered in various bodily fluids just wasn’t on your wish list right now. 

A snicker interrupted your weighing of maintenance hallway 6B against 6C. 

“Care to share what has you so amused with me?”

“I’m just imagining the face of the next guy who walks in here wondering why the fuck it smells like sex...in the morgue.”

“I’m going to ignore that comment in favor of getting dressed, I can give you my outer robe for now but I’m sure we’ll find more clothes for you in the stores next to my quarters.”

“Will there be cake too? I’m still waiting for that, you know.”, Gideon said before heaving herself off the table after you.

“Maybe there will be cake.”

“Liar.”


End file.
